


Take me Home

by DoctorsHeart



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Another Prompt, Domestic, Happy Ending, M/M, Modern AU, angst (a little bit)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorsHeart/pseuds/DoctorsHeart
Summary: Flint and John have been through troublesome times and after Miranda dies, James decides that it is time to change things. Not wanting to lose John, he takes matters into his own hands and releases his past for the sake of a better future.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so basically this is just another, silly little thing I wrote. It's super short (yet again) and (yet again) domestic fluff with happy ending. I'm always happy about corrections, comments and kudos ~

Home. What made a home? What - truly - was a home?  
The term was vague and unbalanced, appearing incomplete. After all it was just a word and words only gained meaning when there was a reality to refer them to.

James had spend several years of his life trying to create and uphold a home but like all things dear, it required attention, care and a loving hand - all of which he's been unable to provide. And so his home had crumbled; its become a cold shell of an idea it had once held and life had slowly left its walls, breath by breath. Home had become a facade, one he had desperately tried and failed to uphold.

Now it was dead and gone; all empty hallways and rooms no heating seemed to be able to keep warm. A memory slipping away and gaining dust and finally, after weeks and months of grief, anger and despair bursting into violence, James had decided to leave the cold grip of death behind and with it all that had been stained by the memory of the dead.

He was well aware of the difficulties that might arise and he was aware of the fear that had crawled up his throat and was forcing the air out of his lungs, making his head spin as he walked up the stairs.  
The key in his hand was cutting into his skin like an enemy trying to tear itself away but James only held it tighter.  
When he entered the apartment, John was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of what was probably hot chocolate. The radio was playing a distantly familiar melody and John hummed along to it.

The moment James had stepped through the door, he knew that this would be it. There wouldn't be a chance to turn back anymore and no time to revisit the graveyard that had so heavily laid itself upon his thoughts like thick fog carrying the whispers of the dead.  
He would have to let go and leave behind what had long tormented him.

John turned to greet him, a smile on his lips, dark hair tied in a messy bun. His embrace was warm and welcoming and its truthfulness stole James' breath away. This man treated him like he's never done any bad to the world and he did it with such ease that sometimes James wondered whether John hadn't forgotten who he was.

He wanted this. He wanted it all - the arguments and insults, the hurt and the bad moods and the laughter, the smell of shampoo and John's long hair in his face at early mornings, his body warm in his arms and piles of blankets weighing them down.  
He wanted to let go of the past and finally - /finally!/ - release the souls he's clung to like a drowning man.  
The hug found its warm, gentle end when John stepped away to face him - he knew something was on. He always knew. But James couldn't find his voice to speak and share all his thoughts with the other. But what were mere words anyway, without a reality to refer them to?

He held the key by the ring it was dangling from and released it from the hand he's been hiding it in, to present the object to John, not unlike one might present a diamond of indefinable value.  
With his other hand, James pulled the plane tickets out of his pocket to hold them in front of the younger man's face in tense silence and then he watched;

John's brows furrowed in a frown and confusion swirled the grey-blue color of the iris. The pupils moved from the key to the tickets, jumping from one printed line to the next and then froze. The frown vanished, the eyes widened and realization hit. The pretty lips parted to silently form the word 'Bahamas' and by the time John's eyes found his, James was tense to the point of breaking.

"You want me to move in with you? ...To the Bahamas?"  
"I want us to move together. To the Bahamas, yes."  
He couldn't tell the emotions that filled the blue of John's eyes then like stars in the sky of a breaking dawn.  
It was a big step, a difficult one. To leave the home country behind and start a new life overseas but James wanted it this way. He was sick of London and the rainy, ever-same days, sick of being stuck in a place filled with memories he couldn't escape and ghosts waiting on him at every corner he turned, and sick of letting his future wait and the  
constant risk of letting this future - this bright, beautiful, messy, curly haired future - slip through his fingers because he's waited too long.  
He had the plane tickets, he had the house, he had the keys.Now he only needed John. It wouldn't have to be the plane, they could take the 'Walrus', it wouldn't have to be this house, they could pick out another one, it wouldn't even have to be the Bahamas.  
But John.... there would be no compromises here. It needed to be John Silver at his side and no other. His John to pick out the house, complain about the plane being late or stare across the water aboard the 'Walrus'; to paint the walls in their new home while singing and dancing along to some ridiculous pop-song, arms and neck and hair stained in droplets of paint.  
He could and would not leave without John. 

"Yes."  
"What?"  
James startled, his thoughts too fast for him to catch up with.  
"I said yes. I will move to the Bahamas with you."  
And then suddenly there was silence in his head and no words left to be spoken. There was no space for conversation when his arms wrapped around John's waist and pulled the smaller man into a kiss worth a million spoken words.


End file.
